Last night the Leverett House Opera Society opened its production of "Le Renard" and "The Unicorn, the Gorgon and the Manticore." I cannot isolate an impression of the music, the dancing, or the drama. I was left only with a memory of the unity of these elements, and that is the highest praise I can give an opera.

Both works were performed by a group of dancers on stage, an orchestra below them and to their right, and a chorus between the two. Visually, the dance dominated, as it should. Musically, the orchestra and chorus were well-balanced and attracted the listener without distracting the viewer.

Stravinsky's "Le Renard" is a burlesque performed by a cock, a fox, a goat, and a cat. The fox, of course, is trying to catch the cock, and the goat and the cat intervene to keep him from doing so. David Moran portrayed the cock, relying entirely on his dancing. Wesley Skinner looked like a goat, although his movements were not as successful as Moran's. Paul Magloff--the crafty, drooling "Renard"--used both his elastic body and plastic face to achieve the work's most impressive performance. The four solo vocalists sang expressivley and tunefully, though Thomas Weber and Gregory Sandow enunciated poorly.

The Menotti work is quite different. It is not a burlesque, but a fable, and its content and method are more complex. Two forces oppose each other: a group of highly conventional townspeople, and a strange young man. The young man--a poet--intrudes upon the townspeoples' Sunday strolling, introducing first a unicorn, then a gorgon, and finally a manticore. Each time, the people ridicule him, but promptly imitate him. As soon as each household has acquired a unicorn, the poet's dream is reduced to a fashionable banality. As he introduces each new beast, the poet says he has killed its predecessor. When he disappears, the people assume that he has killed the manticore. When they march to the poet's castle to punish him, they find him on his death bed surrounded by the three animals--his youth, his middle age, and his old age, which leads him to his grave.

Director John Lithgow wisely did not sacrifice characterization to symbolism. The characters, except for the poet, wear masks which conventionalize them, but the masks are not identical. Lithgow's poet, played by Paul Magloff, was subtle and almost underplayed. He moves as in a trance. His face displays no feeling. His movements are constrained and simple, yet in his duets with the beasts he displays great tenderness. While the poet conveys feeling with only the slightest gestures, the townspeople express motion in exaggerated contortions.

The chorus in this work sang every word of the clever libretto clearly and musically. Jane Mushabac's choreography was effective, although the chorus scenes were generally chaotic. Her duets were superb. Although the orchestra was never outstanding, its performance was always adequate.